


Here For You

by MJEG



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MJEG/pseuds/MJEG
Summary: Valkyrie has moved away from the world, but she can't hide from her ex-boyfriend. Fletcher Renn wants her to take on her problems the way she always has, head-first, but Valkyrie has changed in more ways than one. Adding in the Grand Mage's problems and the plans of the incarcerated Eliza Scorn, did Valkyrie ever have a chance at getting away from Ireland?





	1. Chapter 1

Valkyrie had a lot of gym equipment in her house. When she planned her seclusion from the world, she ordered boxing gear and exercise machines. She hadn’t expected needing so much cooking equipment, either. She hadn’t finished unpacking fully, and it had been a month. Valkyrie had lifted so many boxes into her new home that she hated the sight of cardboard. She couldn’t exactly ask a friend to help, since she was pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. Friends and all. Valkyrie missed Dublin. It felt like home as much as Haggard did. She missed the Bentley. Valkyrie missed her own car. She missed Tanith’s training equipment. Still, she was frustrated with how easily Skulduggery would be able to find her, if he wanted to. Skulduggery knew all about loss of home. His family had been massacred and his body after his death, but he was still brought back to the home of his bones. He watched the world modernise and moved with it. But she had long since realised that his little house off Cemetery Road was most certainly not home. You shouldn’t make homes out of other people, Valkyrie had heard, but she didn’t know a single person that resisted that urge.

She sat on her floral couch and sighed as she read a book. Thank the Gods for internet shopping. But not the evil Faceless Ones that she had fought and killed alongside her friends. Some of which, she reminded herself into the pages of her book, were now dead. This was why Valkyrie was avoiding the world. The world was better off without her interfering and so were her friends. She had refused to even tell them where she was going, asking Skulduggery to explain she was gone. So who was pulling into her drive? Who knew where she was living?

Valkyrie used the mirror on the wall to watch the battered, old ute. It could be a neighbour who had noticed her arrival. But the car had been doing some serious miles. It had evidence of weeks driving through mud and dust. She felt her heartbeat spike as the car owner hunkered down. He was just a shape in the front seat. He could be grabbing a gun or a crowbar. Her eyes flickered to the trunk against the wall. Inside was her stick, the magic one, and there was also a recording device. If it was found – if she died – it was to be sent to Skulduggery Pleasant’s address. She had a sigil on her arm that meant she could trigger it without pressing the switch. As much as she wanted to be a peaceful person, she wanted to make Skulduggery’s first reaction, vengeance, easier.

She could go grab the stick. Or she could risk her magic instead. Her magic would be faster and less conspicuous. Valkyrie put her book down on the table without checking her page. She would regret that later. She sat up and watched as the blonde head reappeared. He had a map and consulted it for a few more minutes. Her legs tensed and her feet twitched in her boots. It had been mere months since her last fight. He looked like a young male. She glanced back to the trunk, but hesitated. In that moment he disappeared. Valkyrie’s eyes widened. He moved incredibly fast. Where did he go? Valkyrie jumped up to stare openly out the window. 

Pop. His face appeared inches from hers. He had bright teeth and a look of concentration. She leaped back and tripped over the coffee table. The book went flying and her back crunched into the floor. Fletcher Renn peered down in concern, piles of hair twisting above his head. Her eyes narrowed. How had Fletcher found her? Here? She glared at him as her back throbbed like she’d been in a fight. She didn’t take the hand he offered her and stormed into the kitchen instead. He followed close behind. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked. “What’re you doing out here, anyway?”  
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” she whipped around to face him. “I’m out here, doing my own thing. I don’t want to see any of you. Do I need to send an un-invitation to all of my ex-boyfriends?”  
He gasped dramatically. “Has Caelan been here?”  
She glared and sat on her kitchen bench. “Very funny.”  
“I’m here seriously, Val. We need to talk.”  
The blood ran from her face. “What happened? Is Skulduggery okay?”  
Fletcher frowned. “We don’t hang out when you aren’t around. I always got the impression he didn’t like me…”  
She sighed in relief. “He doesn’t. It’s one of the things I like about him.”  
“Please,” he held up a hand. “One minute without insulting me.”  
Valkyrie looked at him quizzically. “Then… why are you here, Fletch?”  
“Because you can’t run from your demons, especially if one of them is a teleporter.”  
Despite herself, Valkyrie rolled her eyes.  
“Really,” she said, staring at the bags under his eyes. “Why are you here?”  
“I’m here for you, Valkyrie.”


	2. Chapter 2

Valkyrie sat outside in the sun, laptop closed beside her chair. She basked in the sunlight. Haggard was not like this, with streaks playing against the darkest parts of her hair. It was long and tickled her bare shoulders. She missed Haggard’s rocky waves and dark beaches, but not really the weather. She looked bleached in the brightness. Valkyrie liked to imagine the sun going straight through her, like a prism of colours. If she had been Darquesse (her true name and other self) maybe she could have willed it into action. She pushed that thought away. With that fact came a churn of feelings. Without it, she would still be with Skulduggery Pleasant, Tanith Low and maybe even Ghastly Bespoke. Too many of her friends were dead. Ghastly flashed before her eyes, but not just an image. Valkyrie saw him boxing and sewing and smiling. Scars ran across the entirety of his head, but not all scars are ghastly. He had been kind and caring and she missed him. She knew Tanith missed him too. Ghastly had loved Tanith and fought hard for her. They were a series of near misses – Tanith was taken over by a Remnant, was captured and had a chance of being saved before escaping and then freed, surprisingly, by Darquesse. Tanith had awoken to a world without Ghastly. He had been killed only a short time before. 

Tears were running down Valkyrie’s eyes before she realised it. She sat up and willed herself to stop. Why should she be allowed to cry? Her true self, who she really was, what she had created, had killed so many good people? Didn’t she deserve this? She knew she did, but Ghastly hadn’t. Erskine Ravel wasn’t a follower of Darquesse. She couldn’t be blamed for Ghastly dying. Darquesse herself had punished Ravel, using her magic to create constant, torturous pain for him, for the rest of his life. Valkyrie knew she would have done the same. So would have Skulduggery. She was drawn back to the exact moment Skulduggery had killed the soul of Erskine Ravel.

Skulduggery was going to kill himself for the good of the world. He stopped her from walking to the machine. It would kill the world. It would kill Valkyrie, and Valkyrie’s parents, and Alice. It would kill Skulduggery anyway. But this was final. Skulduggery would step onto the platform and give himself up to save the world, but Valkyrie knew it was not for a wide network of friends and family. Skulduggery would be honourable, and pay his debts by sacrificing his soul. Valkyrie was still pleading with him when he grabbed Erskine. Valkyrie knew what he was doing, finally, and she felt so relieved. Ravel would pay the debt of life. She knew with some dread what she had to do, in that moment. Valkyrie knew that being with Skulduggery, surviving and adventuring, came at too great a cost. He was smart and funny and bright and dark, but she couldn’t find her salvation with him. Which brought her out here, to her hideaway in the sun. Her tears stopped. She banished thoughts of Skulduggery Pleasant, Skeleton Detective and best friend. He couldn’t find her here, he wouldn’t, and that was the greatest punishment of all… for both of them.

Fletcher had gotten her email address. She wouldn’t give him her number. It meant he couldn’t call or pester her about coming back. He couldn’t give it to anyone. She wanted peace and quiet, she told him. She told herself this too, which she knew wasn’t true. Valkyrie didn’t want to wait by her phone for messages that wouldn’t come. Fletcher’s career was taking off as the post-war diplomacy began and he was probably focusing on that. She found it hard to think about. Fletcher had a non-violent career, yet was not as respected for his magic. And his haircut. She allowed herself to check her emails from the laptop computer she had bought out of Gordon’s money. She waited for a minute as the internet loaded up. She waited a minute longer. She refreshed three times, disappointment flowering inside her gut. A wind stirred up as she felt the tears absorbing into her cheeks.  
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

The emails pounded through. She grinned at the screen, before opening them, one by one. She had to order them by time because they had messed up. The computer needed to be open to receive them properly, she noted. The first:  
To the reclusive Valkyrie Cain,

Can I see you this afternoon?

Your favourite teleporter,  
Fletcher Renn.  
The second she read while grinning:  
Hi Valkyrie,  
Busy this afternoon with teleporter duties. See you for dinner? At yours?

Fletcher  
The third she rolled her eyes at:  
Valkyrie I have work in an hour. Email me??  
Fletch.  
The fourth:  
Val, I’ll be away from computer. Please call me, just put your number on private if you’re still worried about me having your number.  
His phone number was typed beneath in a bigger font. And bolded. And underlined. In red. She raised an eyebrow and sighed. She stood and stretched, slipping her boots back on. Padding inside, she looked for the phone. It took her half an hour. She tore through the living room and the bedroom. Her bedframe was wooden and curled up the wall like vines. She kicked the bottom of it. The wood shook with the force. She was glad her legs were still strong. Not that they were useful… in the middle of nowhere. She opened boxes. Valkyrie swore when she walked into the kitchen. On the kitchen bench sat her mobile phone. Sheepishly, she picked it up, wandering into the lounge room where the laptop perched on a red armchair. She dialled quickly. He answered on the third ring.  
“Hey there,” Fletcher said quietly.  
“It’s Valkyrie.”  
“I know,” Fletcher responded brightly.  
Valkyrie hesitated.  
“So… dinner?” Fletcher asked, filling the gap.  
“Tonight. That works. What are you doing?”  
“I’m actually working, Val,”  
She winced into the phone. “Right. Sorry. See you!”  
“Talk later.”  
The line cut with a click.

Valkyrie grimaced at her awkwardness. It was worse than when they first broke up, after she cheated on him with Caelan. And that was awkward. She sat thinking for a long time about Fletcher. He was stronger and smarter than he used to be. Maybe that was because he wasn’t as crazy for her. He didn’t talk about Myra, his ex, much. He was mature to have moved on from their relationship. She had missed Fletcher when they split, but she knew she had no right to blame him for the time they spent apart. He’d always come through for her when she needed it, even now. He was good to her. Her phone buzzed and she frowned down at it. The number wasn’t saved.  
Hey I didn’t say a time. Does 7 work?  
Valkyrie went cold. She typed several messages before replying. How did you get my number?  
You didn’t put your number on private  
She tried to think of a way to tell him to delete her number.  
Fletcher again: So happy you’re over the private number thing. Good to see we have trust back  
Valkyrie swore. He’d trapped her. In his phone her number would stay. He’d pester her about coming back. He would have done that tonight, regardless, and it was something she was looking forward to. If Skulduggery was going through Fletcher’s phone… although, she realised, he wouldn’t have a reason to do that. Fletcher and Skulduggery didn’t hang out. Fletcher could have just told him her address, anyway. It gave her something to imagine as she cleaned her house and decided what to have for dinner.

 

Fletcher had had the creepie crawlies for days. He felt the fear, just under his skin. It happened these days, and it happened as he stood outside China’s apartments. Myra had never been found. The last time he’d seen Skulduggery, the detective had said there was a chance they never would. It was still Skulduggery’s main priority, though, he had told Fletcher. Still, Fletcher felt like an untied knot. He felt lucky to be alive, but he sometimes wondered how long for. She had tasered him and that had nearly been it. No more Fletcher Renn. No more beautiful hair.

China normally stayed in the Sanctuary. She owned her apartments though and still slept there on occasions. Like her birthday. Fletcher was to be her transport for the day. She was to meet with friends for breakfast and Skulduggery for lunch. China wanted Fletcher to teleport her into some of the Sanctuaries around the world that were still at odds with Ireland before nightfall, which was where Fletcher’s obligations ended. She would find her own way to a restaurant for her secret dinner. He was almost surprised she was so political on her own birthday, but not quite.

A man in a black suit and bowtie kept him company. He chattered excitedly. China never came around anymore. That meant he could read her books nearly all day. He had slicked back blonde hair and an excited look in his eye. He seemed as happy to see China as he was to read her books. He bet that extra love kick made his work feel important. Fletcher was happy China’s strange abilities were being put to good use – making this man feel surprisingly fulfilled with his day job. China stepped out in a long green dress. He looked away as he felt the admiration rush through him. It was easy to feel confused around China. It nearly felt like when he’d first seen Tanith, or getting to know Valkyrie… and Myra. He didn’t enjoy how much he craved the reminder. “Happy birthday, Grand Mage!” the boy exclaimed.  
“Thank-you, Fletcher,” she said, staring at Fletcher Renn.  
“Sorry, China,” Fletcher Renn sighed.  
“No, no,” the door-boy said. “My name is Fletcher.”  
Fletcher raised an eyebrow at China.  
She waved a hand at him. “We’re leaving now, to the prison, just outside Dublin? I trust you’ve been.”  
Fletcher offered his arm to her. “Happy birthday.”

They arrived just outside the prison. “You named your door-boy after me?”  
“He had that name when I got him,” China returned.  
Regrettably, he caught her smile. It was stunning. “You can stop that anytime.”  
She smiled wider. “It’s my birthday. Let me have a little… fun.”  
“This is fun?” he gestured to the prison gates they walked through.  
“Breakfast, with friends, is an appropriate way to spend your birthday morn.”

Fletcher shook his head. China always had an angle. He had stopped guessing what everyone’s angles were. The surprises were nicer that way. Her green dress picked up dust from the ground. A slab of bright blue stood before them. The sky behind it was dull, anyway. Fletcher wasn’t a fan of Irish weather. The sky was grey like Dublin always was. It was as grey as slate. It was as grey as when Valkyrie Cain wouldn’t return your emails. He pulled out his phone again. Four emails, he’d sent. If he had her number it would not have been necessary. Finally, he’d just given her number. He couldn’t get his phone to send or receive emails. It was embarrassing. He had memorised what he had sent. Fletcher wasn’t entirely sure why Valkyrie didn’t want him to have her number, but it was probably so he wouldn’t annoy her. 

He adjusted his backpack as they walked along a narrow corridor. Fletcher was allowed to come into the cell, so he did. He wasn’t a puppy, to wait outside. Not anymore. He wasn’t guarding China, and he was a little curious why she would be taking time out for a prisoner. In the cell stood a woman of impressive looks. She had obviously just dyed her hair, a platinum blonde pinned on the top of her head with a bandana. She had very red lips, but clearly no makeup on. Fletcher glanced between her and China Sorrows. China was beautiful in a calculated, effortless way. This woman had been mostly unable to put any effort into her appearance, yet she still appeared to care more than her visitor did.  
“Fletcher Renn, I’d like you to meet Eliza Scorn.”  
“Pleasure to meet the help,” Scorn smirked.  
“I can’t see why you chose your name,” Fletcher shot back.  
“Why, that’s enough. No fighting today.”  
“If you aren’t here for a fight…” Scorn trailed off, expression thoughtful.  
“I’m here to talk. Guess what day it is.”  
Scorn paced the width of the cell. She didn’t step closer to China. Fletcher didn’t like not being able to teleport inside prisons. He understood why, though. It was useful to have an ability that always meant he had an escape. He folded his arms. Why was he so uncomfortable inside? This prison didn’t have telepathic currents that stopped him from thinking. He was just nervous, being around a prisoner.  
“Darquesse would probably be able to guess. Where is she?”  
Fletcher’s eyes snapped to her. “Darquesse is dead.”  
“She’s Skulduggery Pleasant’s runaway child,” Scorn stopped pacing. “She’s a murderer, and it’s her true nature. You can’t run from your true name – even if it splits from you. Don’t you think, dear China?”  
“High and mighty for a murderer,” Fletcher pointed out.  
“Not a mass murderer,” Scorn began pacing again. “Recently,” she admitted.  
Fletcher’s phone rang. Both women raised their eyebrows at him. He shrugged, feeling a little attacked. He wasn’t the criminal here.

He tried not to use her name on the phone. He was sure China could hear him. Besides, Valkyrie’s name sometimes brought about arguments or fist fights these days. She wasn’t here to do damage control on her image, so there was some fear as well as anger associated with her and Darquesse. He knew Darquesse was dead and gone, but he understood why some people questioned her sudden disappearance. He tried to cut the phone call short to get back to China, forgetting to ask for a time. He sighed at himself, checking if he could text a private number after a phone call. A number was there, instead of ‘Private’ or ‘Blocked’. Fletcher’s face broke into a smile. She’d trusted him. He texted Valkyrie about details for the dinner. She didn’t understand how he’d gotten the number, but didn’t tell him to delete it. He saved her number into his contacts. He walked back into the room with happiness lifting his heart.

China was backing into the wall. Eliza lunged forward, practical in plainclothes, and landed against China. They hit the floor and rolled. Fletcher was in over his head. He panicked. He grabbed a water bottle from his bag. “Hey!” he shouted. 

Eliza looked up. China punched her in the face. Fletcher ran forward and kicked her in the chest. Eliza snarled as she was flung back into the wall. Her hands went to her bandana. She pulled it out and Fletcher saw a flash of silver. China had been backing up using the floor. She was a deer caught in the headlights. Eliza opened her hand, revealing the blade wrapped in the bandana. Fletcher gave a shout and Scorn’s hand spun towards Fletcher at the last moment. He screamed as the blade imbedded in his right shoulder. Eliza stood staring at him as the pain began to spread. This wasn’t normal. China stood shakily and punched Eliza, again and again. Fletcher yelled for help. The knife pinned him to the wall. Heat spread down his arm. 

Guards ran in and supported China. Eliza didn’t fight back. She watched Fletcher carefully. He noticed the guards were Cleavers – this prison was for the worst of the worst. One walked to him and carefully yanked at the handle. Fletcher swore as the blade exited through the same path in his shoulder. The Cleaver gasped, trying to drop the blade. The metal rippled and started dripping on his arm. It was corrosive, burning through his uniform to the skin beneath. The Cleaver didn’t scream, but huddled on the floor as it burned past his elbow. Fletcher looked on, horrified. A Cleaver was patting down his arm, trying to check for magical affects on the wound. China pulled a scythe from another and swung down on the huddled soldier’s arm. The severed arm continued to burn and writhe. Some other Cleavers rushed in, starting to bind the amputation. Fletcher felt tired. He saw spots and he couldn’t feel his arm. The Grand Mage looked into his eyes and sighed. “This is going well,” she said, as Fletcher passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I encourage and appreciate feedback, if you would like to give it! A little bit of Fletcher POV. Not sure how well it worked, but I hope anyone reading enjoyed this chapter enjoyed it. It was quite a lot longer this time, too.


	3. Chapter 3

It was cold and late when Valkyrie woke up. Her eyes were wet and she shook. Valkyrie was hugging herself when she came to, and felt a numb shock. What had she been crying about? What could possibly have her shaking in the middle of nowhere? Shapes looked sharp in the dark and she jumped to get the light. She still felt sadness tugging at her as she wandered the house and she grabbed a stray chocolate bar in the pantry.

Valkyrie glanced lazily up at the time. It was 6:55PM. She stared at it in shock. It had gotten very late, very quickly. She rubbed her eyes and strode to her bedroom. She pulled on a lovely cardigan Ghastly had put away as a Christmas present for her. She stopped for a moment, letting herself relax into the beautiful tailoring. Ghastly had made Tanith a birthday and Christmas present for every year since she was possessed by a Remnant. Beside all of them had been little notes, like diary entries of where she was at the time. It seemed odd to Valkyrie for him to remind her like that, but Tanith had cried at them. 

“He knew I’d want to know,” Tanith said, clutching the most recent note. “Every moment I missed. He wanted me to know he was thinking of me, Ghastly wrote where he was every time. He wrote what he knew about where I was, what people I was with. Valkyrie…”  
She had held Tanith close, but it wasn’t the hug she needed, and Valkyrie’s heart broke in rhythm to her that best friend’s.

Sometimes the people who died had nothing to do with Valkyrie. She wiped her eyes again and strode into the lounge room to wait for Fletcher. It was a reason she worried about having magical friends. They should live longer than anyone else, Ghastly certainly had, but their deaths felt too real because they looked so young. Their deaths were mostly violent. She couldn’t stand that to happen to Fletcher, at least she knew Skulduggery could take care of himself…

Valkyrie jumped into the air. Her phone vibrated against the wood on the table. She stared at it for a moment, then scooped it up and placed it carefully against her ear. There was a dull beeping in the background, and Fletcher Renn took a deep breath before speaking.

“Hey babe!” Fletcher greeted her loudly.  
“Fletcher?” she said tentatively.  
“Quick phone call. I’m in the hospiiiiiital.”  
“What’s wrong?” Valkyrie asked carefully.  
“On drugs. I was stabbed by a poison blade. It means I tell the truth… the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I asked China to keep Skulduggery away from me before it took its hold. That way I can keep you all to myself, Valkyrie, isn’t that great? It was meant to be for China Sorrows, you know. So she’d tell all the Sanctuary secrets. Why didn’t Skulduggery try that? Slip her some truth serum, then we’d know everything. What do you want to know?”  
“How long will you be in hospital for?”  
“Very soon. I wanted to tell you I’m going to be late. They don’t want me to leave, but they took me to the sister of Doctor Synech-something. She’s a real-life vampire! Magical toxicology specialist, China said. That means she tests blood for magic disease. She’s a bit angry after dark, so she’s okay with the fresh meat clearing out now. Skulduggery included. China doesn’t like staying around either.”  
“Fletcher, are you going to be okay to teleport?”  
“I love teleporting. I’m here… then I’m there! And now I’m back. It’s like turning on a tap. A tap that teleports, of course. Did you know you were my second girlfriend?”  
“Really? That’s sweet, Fletch.”  
“I have to hang up now. I’m going to head over soon. They said I should teleport home and stay there. I’m going to my favourite person’s instead and staying there. Oh, and China isn’t visiting me. She doesn’t do house calls, she says.”  
“Cya soon, Fletcher.”  
He was still saying ‘bye, bye, bye’ when Valkyrie hung up. She grinned to herself and wandered down the hall, pulling out blankets and grabbing the pillows off her bed. It had been a long time since she had taken care of a drunk, teleporter friend, and an even longer time since she’d had an ol’ living room sleepover. She put pasta on and checked she had bacon for the next morning. Who knew how longer Fletcher would need someone to care for him? Valkyrie didn’t have much else to do… but that didn’t mean she wanted a permanent housemate. Especially a brutally honest one. The pasta was dripping in the strainer when Valkyrie heard a bump in the living room.

Fletcher snuck into the kitchen. He looked at the pasta and back at Valkyrie. His shoulder bandage peeked out his light blue sleeve. In one hand, he held a bottle of pills that Valkyrie took off him immediately. He stared at her openly. She pulled Ghastly’s cardigan tighter around her stomach, but Fletcher wasn’t dissuaded. He stared as she bowled up the plain pasta and led him to the living room. The blankets sat folded on the lone armchair. Fletcher glanced at them as he sat beside Valkyrie on the couch. He ate ravenously. She observed him as she ate. His eyes were wide and his pupils were wide. Every now and again he missed his mouth. He didn’t use his injured arm, and he nearly jabbed Valkyrie with every bite since his good arm was on her side. 

“Fletcher,” she said quietly.  
“My real name is-“  
“Do you want to tell me that? Normally, I mean.”  
He put down the bowl of pasta. “Good point. I don’t, by the way. Did you know-“  
“Do you want me to know that?” she interjected.  
“Of course. My mum’s favourite bird was a wren.”  
Valkyrie looked down. Was it right to let Fletcher open up like this?  
“That’s lovely, Fletch. Is that why your last name is Renn?”  
“Yes. Later, when I was looking up your name, I found out it means rebirth in Latin. Magic was my rebirth, Valkyrie.”  
“When did you look up my name?”  
“Well, I met you, and Kenspeckle had a lot of science books. He also had a lot of books on English and names. So I looked up ‘Valkyrie’ and ‘Cain’. Then I looked up ‘wren’ and ‘Renn’.”  
“That’s nice. You didn’t look up Skulduggery?”  
“Kenspeckle saw me with it and told me straight away. He had his own definitions too. Can I go for a tour of your house?”  
Valkyrie took Fletcher’s bowl and they started in the kitchen. She placed the dishes in the sink and Fletcher had a small frown. He ran his hands through his hair several times. Valkyrie watched him get distracted with getting it just right.  
“I really care about my hair,” he confided.   
“This is the kitchen.”   
Fletcher nodded seriously. She led him to the one of the bedrooms.   
“Spare room.”  
“Not as nice as Gordon’s house, is it?”  
He walked further into the room while she stood in the doorframe, rolling her eyes. The room was too plain to be interesting. Valkyrie grabbed his hand to lead him out. It felt natural. He followed easily.  
“Your hallway is really small.”  
“Cheers.”  
“I like it. I get to stand really close to you. You don’t normally like it when I do that.”  
She looked down. “I like being close to you.”  
Fletcher laughed and squeezed her hand.  
“Bathroom and toilet,” she said, waving her hand towards them.  
“Speaking of…” Fletcher grinned apologetically and ducked in.

Valkyrie grinned at her walls. A drunken Fletcher was fun. She wished they’d been able to go clubbing or something, back when she wasn’t in confinement. She knew they couldn’t have – Darquesse bubbled to the surface in her weak moments. Still, it was nice to think of being as equally truthful and unguarded with Fletcher. They could have danced like at the youth club that time. Skulduggery could have picked them up, like a parent would. She felt a pang. She tried to finish her little fantasy and ignore the tightening in her chest. Maybe they could have gotten a taxi home together instead. They could have stayed up all night, goofing around and watching TV. She could make breakfast while he got ready for work, and she’d throw her gear on minutes before Skulduggery picked her up for the day. They’d text about how sick they were, and when they would do it all again. Fletcher stumbled out of the bathroom and frowned, bracing against the wall. 

“Forgot,” he said, flashing her his hands and going back into the stall.  
She realised how couple sounding her daydream was as he came out and linked his arm through hers.  
“To the bedroom?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows beneath his perfectly styled hair. That was why he took so long.  
Valkyrie frowned at him, but took him to the next room anyway. Her room was dull. Her blankets were from her bed at her parents’ and so was her bed. The curtains were hung haphazardly. She had a world map taped to the wall. Photos of her friends and families were spread across the walls. Fletcher zeroed in on one of a bird, letting go of her arm. His eyes lit up and he touched it with a single finger. The bird was from Sydney, when they were dating. Fletcher had teleported Valkyrie into the lovely summer with the great, Australian wildlife. She felt her heart race. It had been a recent addition, from a USB with all her photos. Their hands were linked in the photo, just near the bird’s bright tail. Valkyrie remembered how warm his hand was, and the way his thumb brushed over her callused knuckles. Fletcher did too.

“I like holding your hand,” he said, staring at the photo.  
“You were good at it.”  
“No,” he protested, turning to face her. “No, I like holding your hand, Valkyrie.”  
“It’s good to be friends with you, Fletcher. Don’t say anything you’ll regret.”  
“It was heat of the moment when you said ‘I love you’. I like holding your hand now, Valkyrie, and I want you to follow me home. Don’t give magic a second chance. It’s messed up you and me both. Give me a second chance. I’ll be here for you, whether you want to hold my hand or need a shoulder to lean on. There’s nobody and nothing to complicate this. Only me. Only you.”  
Valkyrie blinked. He reached out and gently took her hand with his uninjured arm. She felt tingles running through her arm. This was different to holding Fletcher’s hand around the house. Not when she knew what he was thinking... how he was looking at her. She felt his hand twine against the waist of her jeans, and he pulled her closer, injury damned. Valkyrie relaxed against him and lightly brushed his chest. He shivered and released her hand. He tried to rest it on her shoulder, but then he frowned. He moved it onto her back and looked a little embarrassed, holding her awkwardly. Valkyrie guided his hand to her face, cradling her cheek. She leaned in closer. He radiated heat.  
“I’m not going home with you. I think my place is closer.”  
“Witty, but unnecessary.”  
He pressed his lips against hers once, then again. He looked at her for a moment, and she stood on her toes to pull his face back down. Her face felt warm and her breath was ragged when he nearly fell over. His expression was pained. Valkyrie jumped up and ran to the kitchen. She read the instructions on the bottle, and shook out two tablets. She poured a long glass of water. Her hands were shaking. Fletcher joined her in the kitchen, staggering through the pain. He held her hand while he drank the water. She propped him up and took him to the living room. He needed more support than she’d thought.

“A couch isn’t good to sleep on when you’re stabbed,” Fletcher pointed out.  
“Right. Right. You’ll have to sleep in my bed, then.”  
“All by myself?” he asked. “I might get lonely.”  
She rolled her eyes, and briefly considered dropping him.  
She tried to hold him up as much as she could, but he was too clunky. She put him on the couch, and told him to lie down. He obliged and she cradled him. Her muscles strained, and she had to walk sideways in the hallway, but it was easier than she’d thought. He stroked her arm absently. She laid him down on her bed without turning on the light before running to the living room. She grabbed a bunch of pillows. She left her favourite in the room. What if Fletcher needed her? No, she was not sharing the bed with Fletcher. Fletcher could yell for her. 

She walked back into the room. Fletcher still had his shoes on. She dumped the pillows and made her way around to his side of the bed. His eyelashes brushed just above his cheekbones and Valkyrie sighed. He was sound asleep, hand holding his shoulder in sleep. Valkyrie put a pillow beneath his head and took off his shoes. His fair hair billowed across the pillow. She kissed his forehead. Fletcher smiled, eyes closed. Her lips felt as soft as Fletcher's had and her heart felt... lovely.


	4. Chapter 4

Fletcher stood with purpose. A mirror faced him from the inside of the door. His feet were bare and his eyes were wide. There was no colour to his eyes. They were all black. A voice called to him, just on the edge of his consciousness. He slipped his feet into his shoes. The words prodded against his mind, pushing him out the door and into the hallway.

He stood entirely still in the hallway. Valkyrie sung from the kitchen. Her voice was raspy, like she hadn’t sung in a while, but sweet. Fletcher snapped out of it. The hallway was fuzzy, like he was looking at it through another lens. He didn’t feel like himself. Fletcher tried to take a step back into the bedroom. His foot wouldn’t obey. And then, like magic, he decided he didn’t want to sleep for longer. The hallway was boring. He wanted to go see Valkyrie. He needed to see her. It was important to them to see her. Fletcher’s feet clumped down the hall clumsily. Valkyrie had his back to him in the kitchen. She was oddly happy – and seemed to think his clumsiness was usual.

To the knife drawer, he thought. He touched a hand to her waist as he passed, unthinking. She laughed and swatted his hand away – unaware of her strength. His shoulder wrenched and he growled. Hurt her back, his mind said. Fletcher reached out to grab her hair. She moved from his way, turning to face him. She looked worried. He clenched a fist. She’s being smart, his mind told him, strike her and teleport her to me. He thrust his hand forward, but too slow for Valkyrie not to react. She shoved him back jokingly. 

“Fletch, what’s wrong? You look like you’re on drugs!”  
He growled again. Faster. He grabbed her shoulders and she let him. She moved in his arms, pulling him close. He relaxed into her warmth, shutting his eyes against the throb in his head. It was an angry headache. It made him frustrated. That was all. Fletcher’s phone buzzed against the countertop. Valkyrie must have placed it on the bench for him. She released him to check breakfast. Reluctantly, he moved away to pull his phone forward. It was a missed call from Skulduggery Pleasant, some time in the night.

“Skulduggery, hey,” Valkyrie said sheepishly.   
Fletcher frowned at her.   
“I checked, I’m sorry, but I thought it would be something about your medicine. I guess Skulduggery wouldn’t be ringing about that. You’re quiet, so I’m guessing the truth serum is up?”  
“I suppose.” He observed her through narrowed eyes.   
“I… maybe we should have a talk, after breakfast? You should call him back.”  
Fletcher dialled, putting him on speakerphone. Valkyrie put a finger to her lips and winked. Like he was stupid enough to forget. Skulduggery answered nearly instantly. Fletcher guessed he didn’t have much of a life without his favourite young companion.   
“Fletcher,” a velvet voice said carefully. “How are you feeling today?”  
“A lot less honest. Any ideas on why Eliza Scorn wanted to stab me?”  
“I have a lead. She wanted to stab China. It just so happened… Eliza realised that wouldn’t get her out of prison as easily. A teleporter, however….”  
“Stabbing me was to get me on side?”  
Valkyrie turned off the stove. She walked into the living room somewhat casually… but Fletcher was still suspicious. Can’t she handle you talking to her former flame? His mind paused for a moment. Or doesn’t she want her second choice to see how much she prefers her partner, who has no heart? He growled and Skulduggery repeated his reply.  
“Fletcher, is anyone with you?”  
Jealous, Pleasant? He wanted to scream it. He wanted to point out that he was the one to find Valkyrie Cain. Skulduggery had spent all the time in the world with Valkyrie, yet he had no clue where she was. What she was going through. Do you? His mind prodded. Does she really let you in?  
Something dragged him back to Valkyrie’s long silences. She wouldn’t go anywhere with him. He didn’t want to see him often. She never really said what she was thinking. Sadness touched her eyes whenever she talked about Tanith, but she never talked about Skulduggery. She never asked how he was going. What if she already knows? Who sleeps over, on the nights she doesn’t ask you to?

“I spent the night with Valkyrie Cain, skeleton.” Fletcher’s voice wasn’t his own. It was like his voice mixed with a woman’s.  
“Fletcher!” Valkyrie shouted behind him. “How could you?”  
“Valkyrie,” Skulduggery said wonderingly.   
How could you tell the truth? “What, you wouldn’t tell him?”  
“I need to see you,” Skulduggery commanded, voice low.  
“See her, for what?”  
“You said I could trust you,” Valkyrie whispered.   
He didn’t turn to look at her.   
Skulduggery interrupted whatever Valkyrie was going to say. “Fletcher, I need to see you now.”  
“Will you torture where she is out of me? Take a hint, dead man.”  
Skulduggery’s response was pleading. “Valkyrie, can you hear me?”  
Fletcher stepped back so she could see the phone easier. She had her cardigan on from last night. Fletcher had twined his hand through it, a little before sleeping. Her arms were warm. Skulduggery would know that, wouldn’t he?  
“I can,” she said.   
Her hands were clenched. Her eyes were red and she wouldn’t look at him. She stared at the phone as if her world was crumbling. It took so much out of her, to hurt her friend. He knew she allowed Fletcher to stay, but kept him away. A smirk found itself on his features, but he didn’t place it there.   
“Truth telling isn’t the only symptom. There’s a special part of Scorn in the venom,” hang up the phone, stop her, “and Fletcher needs more help. It might sound controlling, but he needs to come see the doctor he saw yesterday. Valkyrie,” he sounded as if he was in pain, “be brave. Call me.”

Valkyrie looked to Fletcher, understanding dawning in her eyes. STOP HER. She opened her mouth to respond. Fletcher teleported behind her. She had her magic stick held behind her back. He snarled, grabbing it from her grip. Her fingers loosened off it immediately. Fletcher chucked it across the room. She spun around, fingers splayed as if she was going to use the air. He laughed and she thrust her hand into his jaw. He rocked back and she hesitated. She should have punched him again. Strike her. 

Skulduggery called her name as Fletcher shoved her into the bench. His punches weren’t strong, but they still surprised her. Again. Fletcher blocked her punch and held her arm. He teleported her to the porch outside and pushed her off. Her leg caught on the way down. Fletcher laughed. He teleported down and kicked her side. She rolled away and he tackled her, teleporting her to the living room. She gasped as he punched her side. More. She struggled to get her bearings and he teleported her onto the kitchen counter. She stuck up her knee, messing up his balance. She shifted her weight and Fletcher felt nothing beneath him. Fletcher tumbled to the floor with a jolt to his shoulder.

Somehow, his phone was still on the counter. Skulduggery was asking direct questions. He sounded terrified. Again, he started his constant loop. He started calling for Valkyrie as she scooped up the phone. She jumped off the counter and disappeared from his sight. We need her, the voice said. Follow! He sprung up. His movements were clumsy as he picked up the stick and followed into the hallway. She was speaking into the phone, in her room. Fletcher called to her in his normal voice. “Valkyrie, it’s wearing off!”

His name jolted her back. Valkyrie. She had been the greatest person in his life. She was his hero. She had a smile that made him light up. Bring her to the cell. He shook his head even as he stumbled towards Valkyrie. She didn’t deserve this. His eyes became more blurred and he stepped past a doorway. Snap out of it.

She made a little noise just behind him. If she hadn’t, he was sure things would have been different. He teleported back a few paces. She gasped and lunged into thin air, instead of pinning him to the ground. God, she was strong. She would have pinned him. Valkyrie hit her chin on the floor, and he laughed. Not so smart. He said something smart to her, and she looked up in fear. Blood was welling from a cut on her chin. She got her arms under her and he tittered. Fletcher grabbed her ankles and pulled her along the floor. She grabbed at the floor, at the wall, but he dragged her faster. She even screamed.

“Skulduggery,” she ground out. “Go to Skulduggery.”  
“He’s too far away,” Fletcher chided. He looked down and saw her hands were raw from trying to grab the floor. She changed tact and reached for her ankles. He lifted her higher and dropped her suddenly. Good. Her face contorted as her neck twisted at an odd angle, not odd enough for major damage. She rolled and tried to get up and he stomped on her shoulder. She screamed his name. You don’t care.  
“Well, well.” Fletcher dragged her by the arm to the entrance, where a man pounded on the door from the outside. “It looks like he isn’t too far away.”  
Valkyrie started to shout. Fletcher hunkered down, kneeling on her left side. She was too tired to shrug him off, but it didn’t stop her from trying. Teleport her away. Bring her to me. Fletcher watched as the door flew off its hinges, narrowly missing them both. Quickly! Skulduggery Pleasant ran in, like he feared he was too late. Fletcher waved his hand in a half-wave and Skulduggery lifted his hands and called to Valkyrie and Fletcher teleported. The scene was replaced by a jail cell. The scene became blurrier and a beautiful hand took his arm, pulling him up. Part of Fletcher could still see the desperation in the confident stride of the Skeleton Detective. He said something, when he saw Fletcher about to teleport…

“Lovely to see you, Valkyrie,” Eliza Scorn said to his – reluctant – companion.   
Fletcher reached up to help Valkyrie up gently. Eliza’s lips tightened at this. Still, she allowed him to loop Valkyrie’s bloodied hand through his arm before holding his shoulder.  
“You aren’t happy to be travelling with us?” Eliza said through Fletcher’s mouth. His eyes widened and he tried to close it, but it wouldn’t. Valkyrie saw his panic.  
“I’m going to kill you,” she said, staring into Fletcher’s eyes with a tired, but determined, intensity. “Not just for what you’ve done to me. I’m going to kill you for hurting Fletcher.”  
“Fletcher,” Eliza said with her own voice, “are you being hurt, dear?”  
“No,” he said, in his own tone.   
Valkyrie blanched.  
“Then, away – we – go.”  
A location appeared in Fletcher’s mind, with the dimming on the edge of the memory. Skulduggery Pleasant’s words came back to Fletcher’s mind, and he turned his head to Valkyrie’s side as alarms pierced the cell. She looked lost. Skulduggery had been so close. She had nearly gotten away. Fletcher teleported, and in the in-between space Fletcher repeated the dead man's words.  
“’Don’t leave me twice.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! New chapter. Not sure if I should be updating more regularly, since this is one of my first works. Hope you enjoyed anyway!


	5. Chapter 5

Dexter Vex lived in the same street as a dead man and two competing funeral homes. It was midday, and had turned out well, despite his friend not answering the door, his roommate oversleeping and the funeral homes in the midst of an all-out prank war. A tree grew in the front yard of Dexter’s newly constructed home, too small to be an obstruction to his view to Skulduggery’s house. There was a new car out the front so Dexter didn’t bother dropping around for the third time, instead choosing to go back inside and wake up his roommate.

The lounge room was just spacious enough to entertain the regular visitors – Skulduggery, Saracen Rue, Tanith Low and – surprisingly – Fletcher Renn. Fletcher was a young teleporter who had sided with Ireland in the Sanctuary Wars. He was loyal, and braver than Dexter had expected. He also, clearly, cared about Valkyrie Cain as much as anyone else. Dexter was worried for Valkyrie being away on her own for so long even though he knew her demons were fierce. Dexter knew all about that.

There was another reason Fletcher stopped by often. They had thought Fletcher was the last teleporter, but Dexter had found a second shortly after the end of the Sanctuary Wars. She was nearing her Surge and hadn’t trained very much in teleportation. She hadn’t chosen her taken name, either. Dexter had been part of a team sent to a British Sanctuary to help ease the transition to peace and also be used as a show of force. After everything, the Dead Man reputation was something to be feared. He wasn’t sure if it had scared the delegates into anything, but he had met a seventeen-year-old girl labelled a low-level teleporter. And that was by her very own mentor, Rufus Deride, an Elemental. She had become closed off at the introductions, but he found her some time after them.

She had appeared around a corner, mid eye-roll, in the middle of the Sanctuary. Dexter had taken a tactful stroll both to avoid the meeting and find her again. She wore fighting gear that looked like normal clothes. They were clearly too big. Her blonde hair fell just past her shoulders and she was pale. The skin on her fists was toughened. He could see her spark of spirit from the moment she had refused to sit in on the meeting. She looked even more rebellious and embarrassed than before.

“Is there someone more annoying than Rufus around?” Dexter asked her with a frown.  
She jumped, narrowing her eyes at him. “This Sanctuary does not tolerate disrespect towards senior figures, Mr Vex.”  
“From your answer, I gather you mean ‘yes’. That is terrifying. We should get out of here.”  
A smirk touched the corner of her lips. “Where to?”  
“The Irish Sanctuary.”  
She was surprised. “Why would I want to?”  
“Fletcher Renn. He hasn’t had his Surge yet either – you two could learn from each other. You’ve heard how he helped us in the war.”  
“I would not like to be indebted to the Irish Sanctuary, Mr Vex.”  
He nodded and said more quietly, “Don’t make it an official mentorship, then. Fletcher won’t care if it’s on the books.”  
She looked pained. “I live in Sanctuary-owned housing. I don’t have… support here or in Ireland.”  
“Funny that, I need a roommate. I do the cleaning around the house, but Saracen has to bring me food a lot. Actually, the best nights are when Fletcher pops in and we bug him to get food from our favourite places in the world.”  
“What would you get out of me sharing your house?”  
Dexter had shrugged. “I was figuring you’ll be as powerful as him after a while and you can get me food daily.” She gave him a suspicious look and he smiled, saying, “Everyone deserves a chance. I found it hard to be trained with my first mentor ans there’s no good reason for you to be less powerful because of a war you weren’t a part of.”

Dexter flopped on the couch and leaned his head against the wall deciding to let his roommate sleep more. She had been worried about Fletcher when Dexter told her the news Skulduggery brought around last night. The house had a different vibe now that his roommate was more powerful. He could tell she wasn’t far away from a taken name. Her and Fletcher were supposed to be training in transcontinental teleportation. 

China Sorrows was still playing dangerous games as Grand Mage. There wasn’t much he could do, though he’d technically taken over Skulduggery’s official Detective position. Skulduggery just couldn’t be relied upon at the moment, like he was chasing something else. He sighed, kicking his feet onto the low coffee table. Everyone knew what Skulduggery was chasing.

Clanks rebounded from the kitchen. He checked the time – it was long past midday. He wasn’t sure how long his roommate could sleep, but since they had been watching TV together he knew it was a lot longer than he could. There was a sharp rap at the door. Dexter pulled himself out of the couch and tried to guess the visitor. Skulduggery, he expected. The Grand Mage wearing a dark blue skirt and eggshell-white, silk shirt he had not. China stood in front of Skulduggery but it was clear she had not knocked. Skulduggery barged past Dexter with scarcely a hello. His phone was by his side and China followed close behind. Dexter shut the door, trying to keep his anger in check. Only… he realised he was more scared than anything else. Skulduggery was frozen in the hallway. China was patient and waited for him to move on.

“Call me back, Fletcher.”  
Skulduggery put it down by his side, crossing to the kitchen. He moved like a skeleton. He was completely, unnaturally fluid and graceful. When they were in the war, just after he came back, Skulduggery would lie down in the middle of a field or forest. He didn’t need to eat or drink but he was an excellent hunter. Animals would run right over him. In those days he was more hunter and soldier than person. This was exactly why Dexter had up and moved to be his neighbour. Without Valkyrie, Skulduggery was going backwards.

His roommate was in her pyjamas. Tanith Low had given her some of her old stuff. They were a little big, which was good, because they would have been short on Tanith. She was preparing a bowl of cereal. She liked putting yoghurt and berries on cereal instead of milk. When Dexter had first realised that, he started stocking the fridge with punnets of berries and large tubs of yoghurt. She was uncomfortable with him buying specific things for her, but if he didn’t mention it and made sure there was abundance, she would quietly accept. 

Skulduggery was staring at her, head tilted. He had met her previously, but he looked at her as if he was figuring out a puzzle. Even China was rattled. She hadn’t met the teleporter because he had requested nobody tell the Grand Mage about her presence. The girl seemed determined not to look at China, but China sized her up in a single glance. 

“Fletcher Renn is your mentor,” Skulduggery started, “and you like him a lot. Fletcher is a level-headed sorcerer. He has a sense of duty. That means that he is in a lot of pain right now.”  
“Getting stabbed definitely does that,” she retorted, glancing at Dexter. She grabbed her jacket off the counter and zipped it up, in a Valkyrie-esque motion.  
“Indeed. It was a twice-poisoned blade. The first layer makes you tell the truth. The second layer transforms you into a servant. Eliza Scorn is controlling Fletcher. Its only a matter of time before he teleports here, or the Sanctuary, or Eliza Scorn’s cell.”  
“Are we going to her cell, then?” Dexter asked, leaning against the wall.   
China glanced at him. “There’s a riot in the prison. There’s no chance of getting to her cell, unless we all go and fight it out. This isn’t a fighting skirt.”  
The teleporter laughed. “We could go, Grand Mage Sorrows. You should be waiting behind anyway.”  
Skulduggery was dialling the phone again. He got through. Dexter excused him and the teleporter as Skulduggery got Fletcher to pick up. He took her into her bedroom so China wouldn’t overhear. He hadn’t been in there often, and he was surprised by how neat it was. The carpet was a bright white and she had picked up a faded wooden closet. Her window was open and the blue cloth blinds ballooned further into the room.  
“Skulduggery is about to ask you where Fletcher is.”  
“How would I know?” she asked, eyeing him off.  
“You and Fletcher have been working on big projects. Skulduggery has seen that even with his ‘distractions’. Where is he?”  
“I don’t know what you’re-“  
“Fletcher’s in trouble. If he’s with someone, they’re in trouble. Get dressed in gear and come into the kitchen. We need to find him.”  
She pushed him out of the door, hesitantly talking as she changed. “I combined my powers and the places in the world I knew to help him find a girl. It took him a month. Since then, we’ve trained more on different things. He had a background a little like mine. Only, Ireland’s more dangerous and the English Sanctuary expects more of a return on their investments.”  
“Valkyrie!” Skulduggery shouted in the kitchen.   
He continued shouting. He went quiet, but Dexter could still hear him talking.  
“The girl was Valkyrie Cain, wasn’t it?” he asked the door.  
She didn’t say anything.  
Skulduggery went quiet, but Dexter could still hear him talking. China ran into the hallway with a pale, pale face. She glared at the door as if it was the cause of all her problems. Her face was red and she stormed past Dexter to bang on the teleporter’s door. He could hear she was rushing already. He put his hand up to stop the Grand Mage from shouting anything to her. The teleporter tumbled out in her clumsy way and grabbed them both. She teleported them into the kitchen.

“She knows where Valkyrie is, and Fletcher, by the sounds of things,” China reported immediately.  
Dexter didn’t bother being angry about her eavesdropping.

Skulduggery thrust the phone into China’s hand. He spurned her offered arm, instead holding the teleporter’s shoulder. They teleported into the heat and dust of an early morning in America, and Dexter couldn’t help his surprise. Why would Valkyrie choose America? Skulduggery ran up the stairs, moving like a normal person again. He banged on the door. He shot air at it again and again, swearing. China dropped the phone. Dexter could see Fletcher inside. His eyes were big and red ringed. The house was warded, for God’s sake. Dexter raised his palm and the door shattered inwards. Skulduggery lifted his hands to pull them both forward with the air. They disappeared and Skulduggery said something, falling to his knees. Dexter hunkered down beside his friend, who was watching the spot where an evil woman controlling the most powerful teleporter in the world kidnapped his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this provided a good Vex perspective :)


	6. Chapter 6

Something was missing in China’s life. She had power, wealth, and knowledge beyond the dreams of any normal mage. Her influence spanned both centuries and empires. She had the gaze of many a man. Interactions in her life were mostly interesting and to her betterment. So why had China Sorrows needed to see someone like Eliza Scorn, on her very own birthday?  
Well, that was nobody’s business.

China didn’t enjoy Dexter’s line of questioning, but it was preferable to being ignored by Skulduggery, even if it was because he was busy himself. Skulduggery had immediately called the prison. He was still attempting to get through, since the head of the warden was missing, and they saw that as the main problem. China knew better. China knew that with Fletcher Renn under her thumb, Valkyrie Cain as hostage or as a similar slave, and freedom, Eliza may just be as dangerous as the Grand Mage of Ireland. Especially with the events so close at hand...

“You thought, what, you were going to gloat?” Dexter asked.  
China stared towards the teleporter, avoiding her gaze.  
Dexter growled. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t investigate.”  
“You should be going to the prison.”  
“It’s in riot,” the young girl said. “Dexter can’t go into the middle of that.”  
Dexter tilted his head. “You’re saying you know how to get there?”  
“Fletcher took me to the important places, so I could get a job in the Sanctuary when I had my Surge. I know the prisons.”  
“Then you have to go,” China told Dexter.  
He raised an eyebrow, but then nodded. “Skulduggery, are you coming?”

They all turned to look at the most unpredictable person on the porch. He cocked his head, like he had no idea what they were talking about. And then his eyeless gaze focused on China. She returned it wordlessly. Skulduggery took the phone away from his head. “You’re coming to the prison, China.”  
“I’m not on your payroll,” she scoffed.  
“First off, when it comes to Valkyrie, I say what goes. And if you call this in to the Sanctuary, the reports will be ‘a rogue teleporter, a Faceless worshipper and Darquesse.’ They will be kill-on-sight priority.”  
“There’s a riot, Skulduggery. Prisons are no place for Grand Mages.”  
Skulduggery straightened his tie just so. “You should have thought of that before you visited Eliza Scorn.”  
She whirled to the teleporter. “Take me to the Sanctuary. That is a direct order.”  
“You have no jurisdiction here,” Dexter told her, and then turned to the teleporter with a dashing smile. “We can leave now. Wait just outside – I’ll call you if I need.”  
They all linked arms. China shook her head. She hesitated. And hesitated again. Finally, she strode to Skulduggery and wrapped her arm too tight around his waist. They teleported into the heart of the prison.

“Dear God,” Dexter said.  
The teleporter disappeared a moment later, looking a little green.  
Skulduggery rolled something over with his shoe. “I guess we found the head.”

 

Valkyrie knew enough Gaelic to recognise the language carved into the ancient walls. She didn’t recognise any of the symbols or words. They were almost dusted on. The walls had weathered until the carvings were barely there. Eliza Scorn opened her arms wide and brushed her hands along them. Fletcher walked beside Valkyrie, and didn’t appear to notice that he was brushing his own fingers against the wall, exactly like his ‘master.’

His other hand brushed her bound hands and she jolted, falling against the wall. Eliza turned and gave her a bright smile. Valkyrie didn’t return it. She didn’t like the dusty quality the walls had. It gave her the creeps. Somehow, she wasn’t quite brave enough to insult Eliza’s walls out loud.

“Is this your place?” Valkyrie asked.  
Eliza laughed. “Of course not. Why would I entertain so many guests at my place?”  
“Sorry?”   
“I had a hard enough time getting out of prison, let alone preparing for the greatest event of the magical social calendar.”  
Valkyrie had a smirk. “The Requiem Ball isn’t for another few years.”  
“A deep shame on the magical race, that event is. Half of them didn’t even fight Mevolent, and yet they claim the moral high ground? History isn’t written by the winners, history is written by the bystanders looking to further themselves without getting down and dirty.”  
“Right. Who’s at the big party? And where the hell is it?”  
Eliza threw her head back and laughed. 

They walked for a time longer. Valkyrie knew that if she repeated herself, she was losing something of her power. She couldn’t help but care where she was going. And Eliza could take her wherever she wanted without telling her where that was. To ask again was to openly acknowledge that Valkyrie had no control. Instead, Valkyrie scuffed her shoes along the floor. She stared at the bindings on her hands – pieces of cloth wound together at the wrists with no magical spells to keep Valkyrie from firing liquid light at Eliza’s head. But then where would she be? It made her uneasy that she was seen to be such a little threat.

Light escaped from a break in the hallway ahead. Valkyrie felt her feet drag. Eliza too walked slower. Fletcher’s eyes widened and she saw the little twitch in his hand towards her. Her heart squeezed and she stepped closer to him. Eliza was delighted. She took Valkyrie lightly by the arm and walked her into through the intricately carved doorway.

A deep silence greeted them as they entered the cavernous, underground room. Rows upon rows of people turned on their benches to face them. Eyes blinked at Valkyrie and Fletcher. Young and old people were in all kinds of handcuffs and bindings next to groups of people. Eliza gave a deep curtsey, pulling Valkyrie into it too. She looked ridiculous. The blood hid her face and her hair fell down in waves past her head. Valkyrie pulled herself out from the curtsey and used her body to flick her hair over her shoulder. There were little gasps across the room as mages recognised her. Fletcher moved forward and spoke with Eliza’s voice, “My grand entrance, and my blood champion for the week’s events, may I present to you: Valkyrie Cain, lover of all things dead.”


	7. Chapter 7

Dexter’s first punch came after he realised access to magic was tenuous inside the prison. He had lifted his arm to energy-beam a prisoner to high heavens, but had come with less than nothing. The punch had thrown him to the ground a few metres away. Skulduggery came in from the other side and thrown her across the room. Dexter punched the ankle of the man fighting China, and ended up with a man on top of him. “Great.”  
“I know,” the man laughed.

Dexter’s head snapped to the side as the prisoner punched him. Dexter got a hand under his ribs and pushed. He felt a flicker of magic in his system, and put it into the next shove. The man spun off him and away. Dexter grunted with satisfaction and stood once more. He was just happy the teleporter was out before this all happened. He wasn’t happy that China hadn’t bothered to help with a potential murderer straddling him. China kicked the inside of a woman’s leg and shoved her into the ground by her neck. If China hadn’t been a politician, he would’ve taken her for a beautiful street fighter with a penchant for dirty tricks.  
Not that he was any cleaner.

Dexter broke a man’s arm after he tried to swing at his head. After, he stomped on it. The man howled as Dexter sprang at a woman with a bloody knife. He blasted the right energy onto the knife and it melted down her hand. She screamed and he shoved her towards a wall. Her head cracked into it. A giant of a man strode in from another room. Dexter sighed, looking around for a weapon. He glanced back up to see the man steam-rolling towards him. Dexter leaped off the ground to the side. He nearly touched the balding head of the warden. He flinched, and then picked it up while grimacing. Dexter Vex threw the head into the arms of the approaching giant-man. He caught it without thinking. Dexter swung a kick as graceful at Tanith Low’s into the face of the giant. The head of the warden went flying. The head of the giant swung around as he struggled to keep his feet. Dexter watched him for a moment before taking a flying leap. He landed on him, and sprung off just before he hit the ground. After, Dexter took a deep breath before flying back into action. Slowly, the stream of prisoners lessened, until the three of them escaped down the hallway.

“This way,” Skulduggery said with authority.  
Dexter glanced at China, and she nodded. 

Skulduggery handled any prisoners who were brave enough to bother them. He was brutal and efficient. Dexter had some confidence they would catch Eliza. They turned into her cell. Skulduggery blasted the door of the hinges. Two notes sat on the bed, but no Valkyrie. No Fletcher. And no Eliza Scorn.

Skulduggery read the first note out. “’To the Dead Man-‘”  
Dexter coughed. “A Dead Man.”  
Skulduggery managed a shrug, though it was a strange movement. “’I have your most powerful resource – teleportation. How else could you quickly find your dear Valkyrie Cain? While Valkyrie is useful to me, and I wouldn’t have her without the teleporter, I have to say I would have settled for the traitor. All night I have sat in this cell, wondering when the poison will take affect. At first I wished it had affected my true target – the Grand Mage of Ireland. And then I realised Fletcher Renn is as preferable a guest as any.’”  
Skulduggery tilted his head as if he was storing away information. “’It was only hours later that I was able to see into the mind of Fletcher. I saw where he was, and how he felt, and how she felt. I realised, Dead Man, that my blade imbedded into Fletcher Renn not so I would miss my opportunity to go out with China, not so I would take the final teleporter, but to take the girl without a true name, the lover of all things dead. However, it’s not the Faceless Ones that gifted me with this opportunity… but China Sorrows, to whom the other note is addressed. Love scorn.’ It actually says it, to love scorn, not to love her.”

China crossed the room to the bed. She didn’t touch the note, but leaned over it instead. Her lips tightened as she read the words, though she could guess at their meaning before she saw the writing. China read them once more before repeating them to the men who had never attended such an event.

Your name day is over, and the celebrations begin. Just like your coming of age, China.

China’s voice stuttered over the words, and she could barely say them. Skulduggery told Dexter to deal with the prisoners in the hallway. She didn’t meet Skulduggery’s gaze. She couldn’t. She remembered how disappointment looked in his expression when he had a face to display emotions. How could she tell him one more horror? He had to know what her name day after her Surge had been to find Valkyrie. And God did they have to find Valkyrie. How could she say the words? China’s vision swam. And China fainted.  
What an old lady thing to do.


	8. Chapter 8

Valkyrie knew enough Gaelic to recognise the language carved into the ancient walls. She didn’t know any of the symbols or words. The inscribing was so weathered it was almost dusted on. The walls had weathered until the carvings were barely there. Eliza Scorn opened her arms wide and brushed her hands along them. Fletcher walked beside Valkyrie, and didn’t appear to notice that his fingers on one hand were lifting to brush the wall, exactly like his ‘master.’

His other hand brushed her bound hands and she jolted, falling against the wall. Eliza turned and gave her a bright smile. Valkyrie didn’t return it. She didn’t like the dusty quality the walls had. It gave her the creeps. Somehow, she wasn’t quite brave enough to insult Eliza’s walls out loud. It didn't stop her internal cursing. She peeked at Fletcher. Was he still in there? Would he ever come back? The anger was like a shock to her system, and it empowered her.

“Is this your place?” Valkyrie asked.  
Eliza laughed. “Of course not. Why would I entertain so many guests at my place?”  
“Sorry?”   
“I had a hard enough time getting out of prison, let alone preparing for the greatest event of the magical social calendar.”  
Valkyrie allowed herself a smirk. “The Requiem Ball isn’t for another few years.”  
“That event is a deep shame on the magical race. Half of them didn’t even fight Mevolent, and yet they claim the moral high ground? History isn’t written by the winners, history is written by the bystanders looking to further themselves without getting down and dirty.”  
“Right. Who’s at the big party, then? And where the hell is it?”  
Eliza threw her head back and laughed. 

They walked for a time longer. Valkyrie knew that if she repeated her question, she was losing something of her power. She couldn’t help but care where she was going. And Eliza could take her wherever she wanted without telling her where that was. To ask again was to openly acknowledge that Valkyrie had no control. Instead, Valkyrie scuffed her shoes along the floor. She stared at the bindings on her hands – pieces of cloth wound together at the wrists with no magical spells to keep Valkyrie from firing liquid light at Eliza’s head. But then where would she be? It made her uneasy that she was seen to be such a little threat.

Light escaped from a break in the hallway ahead. Valkyrie felt her feet drag. Eliza too walked slower, only with a distinct purpose. Fletcher’s eyes widened and she saw the little twitch in his hand towards her. Her heart squeezed and she stepped closer to him. Eliza was delighted. She took Valkyrie lightly by the arm and walked her into the cavern through the intricately carved doorway.

A deep silence greeted them as they entered the cavernous, underground room. Rows upon rows of people turned on their benches to face them. Eyes blinked at Valkyrie and Fletcher. Young and old people filled the benches. There was a large crowd up the front. Eliza gave a deep curtsey, pulling Valkyrie into it too. 

She looked ridiculous. The blood hid her face and her hair fell down in waves past her head. Eliza's hand was only loosely curled around her bicep. Valkyrie pulled herself out from the curtsey and used her shoulder to flick her hair out of her face. There were little gasps across the room as mages placed her. She heard a light jeer and flinched. Fletcher stepped a little towards her, and then visibly juddered. It was like the mages noticed him for the first time. He stopped, and spoke with Eliza’s voice, “My dear friends. Here is my blood witness for the week’s events, may I present to you: Valkyrie Cain, lover of all things dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all having a lovely week


	9. Chapter 9

The prisoners turned to them with a jerky co-ordination. They ranged in size, age and height, but one trait was common among the number: they had to have killed someone once in their lives. The tiled floor was dull, but the blood on the floor was bright. Parts of the ceiling had been torn down and some prisoners were trying to lift each other into the crawl spaces to little success. In the corner, massively muscled women were wrestling. China could only describe it as amateurish, and rather undignified.  
“The lights,” Dexter muttered beside her. “They turn off when the magic wards are down.”  
“Are you going to let us through?” Skulduggery asked politely, as if he was willing to wait for them to move.  
They didn’t answer. Some roof plaster fell, making everyone jump.  
Skulduggery shrugged and moved forward, hands cautiously splayed in front of him. Dexter flanked him. China sighed and followed at the same distance as Dexter. The crowd became quiet. Grunts sounded from the corner where the women fought. They passed through the edges of the mob. The people turned to face them, but their path was still clear. China felt her heartbeat begin to speed up. And then more roof plaster fell. A few prisoners shuffled forward.  
Skulduggery was ready. He sunk into a crouch as a small man took two light steps towards him. He grabbed the man under his armpits and threw him against the person behind him. It was a mistake. A person to his left grabbed him and China felt a hand grab her shoulder. The room darkened and she clenched her fist. Sigils in her palm burned with ferocity. She shook the young, tattooed girl off and shoved the burning light at her chest. Her eyes widened and she screamed as she fell and China walked forward as the lights switched back on. She cursed herself for not insisting the teleporter try to teleport them through. Dexter wouldn’t have listened anyway…

Dexter grabbed a lanky man by his arms and swung him through the crowd. Some ducked in time, but a handful were knocked over by the man-turned-weapon and his other victims. A shadow fell over the room, and a chunk of plaster hit a girl before she could reach forward. Skulduggery was turned backwards to face China and he tilted his head like he had winked. The lights burst into being. Dexter took a few quick steps towards her.  
“Swap,” he whispered. “And off the defense!”  
China twirled as she passed by him. Dexter’s side seemed reassured by the changeover. Her side became wary. China ran at a bigger man and he opened his arms to meet her. She rammed her shoulder into his barrel chest and drove him back a step. She was close enough to kick him in his groin, and did it so quickly that her skirt ripped up the side. She growled and continued to walk forward as she attacked. She grabbed the long hair of a man and swung him onto the tiles before her. She stomped across his back, trying to see Skulduggery ahead.  
The lights danced once more and they were plunged into darkness. Hands scrabbled for her in the darkness. She ducked. Skulduggery’s skull was suddenly lit by a fire that flared from one of the prisoners. Some of them had permanent, painful markings that prevented them from accessing their magic, unless they had an incredibly high pain threshold. Skulduggery lifted his arms and then struck out, palms thrust away from his body. The wall of people on either side disappeared and she heard their skulls and bodies smacking together against the wall. They all began to sprint. Dexter, being the fittest of all of them, overtook Skulduggery. She passed through the edge of the crowd as the prisoners began to break down the air control Skulduggery put in place. A stray fireball nearly lit her hair on fire. Finally, Skulduggery slammed the door behind her and put his hands against the frame. Water rippled across the joins of the door and solidified into ice.  
“No rest for the wicked,” China told them, and they followed her at a run up the corridors.  
Dexter huffed behind her. “Even when the kingdom is yours?”  
“That’s when China causes the most problems,” Skulduggery piped in.

They ran past people huddled in corners, through darkness and piercing light. Some of the doors were still firmly locked on the worst of the worst of the worst. They threw furniture at the walls and the doors. Word of the prison riot had spread to all members. They entered a dark hallway. The door at the end of the corridor, which T-boned into two separate paths, made China’s heart race. The door was locked, closed and bolted with big bars. The slot for food trays to be distributed was welded shut. Skulduggery grabbed her shoulder and she jumped. They slowed to a walk. Silence stretched around the door like a bubble.  
China waited for it to pop.

She turned left past the door. She heard the tiny footsteps pad out of the cell. She twisted around. Murderers were better left alone, but monsters would not be ignored. She first saw the way Skulduggery was hesitating. China felt a wave of anger – of course she forgot it could have the power to petrify her or something equally terrible. Her eyes slid onto the tiny figure, frozen in the joint gaze of her and Dexter. And it was terrible.

The figure was a little blond vampire in pyjamas with green dragons. Dexter gagged and fell against the wall. Her eyes widened as the boy’s face changed and morphed, like a murder victim. She realised quickly he had ingested salt water. She watched the skin around his mouth shrivel and Dexter gasped. Its eyes snapped to her, suddenly lifelike. They turned down to look at his pare feet. And the boy’s face elongated to that of a lovely little girl. Her smile was gap-toothed and shy, but her expression was on of curiosity. A red silk dress stretched towards the floor and she reached her arms open for the man next to China, who was beginning to turn. China grabbed his shoulder with desperation. The little girl’s eyes crinkled and focused on China. Those green eyes… that she never thought she would see again. 

China’s eyes narrowed at the visage and found her eyes were wet. She stood transfixed, terrified. Dexter’s eyes were squeezed shut against the tears that leaked from the corners. The girl bit her lip and she gently closed her eyes. China’s shoulders sagged but she kept her hand firm against Skulduggery, who was bursting with wonder. The same wonder that pursued the pink lips of his brown haired daughter. Who China would watch die again. Her face grew wider and longer, her mouth tilting up at the corners and down again as she shot up in height. Her shoulders filled out beyond that of the average woman and a gold, interlinked bracelet wound from her shoulder to inner wrist – a gift from Skulduggery. Her dress was sleeveless and as green as her daughter’s eyes. Her hair grew longer and lighter and abruptly disappeared to shoulder length. China gagged as the woman’s eyes flew open with surprise. They were an intelligent, darting hazel. China fell against Skulduggery as he turned. His wife’s lips curled downwards, like he had disappointed her. China’s stomach twisted.  
“Your… wife,” Dexter whispered, eyes shadowed.  
The woman observed all three of them. “The shadow of you, your last friend, and your mistress.”  
“Wife,” Skulduggery said slowly. “My wife.”  
“I am your wife. If you ever cared for the mother of your daughter, you would rip her heart out.”  
“Why?” he asked finally.  
“I… I am your wife.”  
Skulduggery sighed. “This isn’t an intelligent conversation. Give it up. You aren’t my wife.”  
Her forehead creased. “I am a vision of your wife.”  
“Excellent. What’s your name?”  
“Sorry?”  
“You don’t know your name. My wife wouldn’t call herself ‘my wife’. She had a name and a title of her own. Her first title was not wife. It may have been mother. But that would just put wife lower on the list. Besides, she didn’t like the idea of throat tearing, let alone heart ripping. Not from me. Your last mistake was calling Dexter my ‘last friend’. You wouldn’t know a fair amount of my friends have died or deserted me recently, dear.”  
Her face erupted in terror. “I don’t know what’s happening, Skulduggery.”  
Dexter marched forward and punched her in the face. She fell against the wall and hit her head. Skulduggery tentatively stepped forward. Skulduggery’s wife wore the same expression as when she died. Unimaginable sadness. Skulduggery kneeled down. He moved her hair carefully from in front of her shoulders. Her collarbones were visible… and so was a mark on her neck. Skulduggery’s gloved hand gently crossed over the scar across her throat and hovered above her collarbones. His head tilted and he paused a moment longer. He tapped her collarbones with two hands. Her hair lengthened and Skulduggery waited as her true identity was revealed – a girlish twenty-year-old. Her face was scarred in a crisscrossing, net-like pattern.  
“She needs a talking to,” Dexter said quietly.  
“Would she have thought of this on her own?” Skulduggery wondered aloud.  
Skulduggery didn’t wait for an answer. He stood above her and lifted his hand. She floated off the ground and into his arms. He carried her into the cell and laid her on the bed. China followed him in. Skulduggery clicked his fingers and the room blazed with light. Jajo Prave cowered in the corner. China rolled her eyes and moved to his crevice. She grabbed him roughly by his shoulders and pinned him to the wall. His eyes opened and he didn’t seem surprised to see China. “Tell me,” she growled.  
Skulduggery let his flame extinguish.  
Jajo yelped. “Why’d you put that off?”  
“So you won’t know when it’s coming,” Skulduggery told him from beside her.  
She let him down. He yelped again. “Stop that,” Dexter said at the doorway.  
“I like it when they run,” Skulduggery whispered from the other side of China.  
“You’re all crazy!”  
“Does it make you want to mess with us?” China asked.  
“I have a message from Eliza Scorn.” Jajo’s voice shook. “From now on I am quoting her. 'I’d like to humbly apologise for the late beginning to your birthday celebrations, but I had to be locked up and all. When we were young, it was a day to torment your dear brother or, when we were a little older, find out how many young men we could convince to do whatever we wanted. Actually, that’s how we spent every day.  
“'It’s your eighteenth birthday, China, that I want you to remember. Your big, special day that had to out shadow my smaller, special day. This was when war was being stirred up, and a few years before your first little fling with the other side. Your grandmother organized it… a feast of the masses. Let’s hope you can find it, China. For the sake of the teleporter and Valkyrie’s ancient heritage.'”  
China grabbed Jajo by the throat and squeezed. He squeaked and she held on as her head spun. Skulduggery grabbed her shoulder and she released him. Skulduggery grabbed Jajo and steered him past China, a flame lighting his other palm. He shoved Jajo through the door. He took a small bag from his jacket pocket. It was nearly empty. Skulduggery shook a bit of dust out of it and sprinkled it over the girl. Pieces caught in her hair. Instead of changing to one hue, it took on many different colours. China was nearly curious. Skulduggery tilted his head and then followed Prave down the hall, ahead of Dexter. 

Prave led them to Eliza Scorn’s cell. China followed in a daze. Skulduggery was asking Prave something. Prave answered and Skulduggery left him outside. Dexter casually leaned against the wall beside Prave, preventing her from confronting him once more. She glared at him and he offered her a questioning stare. What did you do, China? She shuddered. Skulduggery looked under the bed and crawled along the floor. He disappeared behind the wall between them and the prison cell.  
“Are you alright?” Dexter asked instead.  
“What do you mean?” she asked, tilting her chin upwards.  
“It was creepy.”  
It took China a moment to realise he was talking about the shapeshifting.  
“Do you…” Dexter looked into the cell and leaned closer to her. “Was it your worst fear?”  
China stared into the cell. “My worst fear has already passed. It’s my greatest regret.”  
“Mine was both.”  
“The victims of war… aren’t the people who choose to fight.”  
“Skulduggery’s wife fought,” Dexter frowned. “She was-“  
Skulduggery popped his head around the corner. Dexter shut up. China tensed up. Part of her was struggling to breathe. She didn’t want to meet Dexter’s eyes. She even felt ashamed in the presence of Jajo Prave.  
“Actually,” Skulduggery said casually, “I think it was my child China saw first.”  
China swallowed a bitter taste in her mouth.  
Skulduggery said, “Well, I found a few clues. Let’s go find our girl.”


	10. Chapter 10

The teleporter sat on the park bench in front of the prison. It was a pleasant seat to sit on. She could have been sitting anywhere. It somewhat took away the effect of standing outside of a prison riot. That sounded exciting. That didn’t sound like sitting in front of a chain link fence, on a red bench, with grey sunlight slanting through dull, Irish clouds that looked too much like English clouds.   
Dexter didn’t like involving her in violence. He had told her he wasn’t Skulduggery, and she wasn’t any kind of Valkyrie. Even as a teenager who was old enough by Sanctuary standards to live on her own and look after herself, Dexter had decided she should work on her magic before she worked on her fighting. He had offered to spar with her, but that was the extent of things. She trained with Tanith instead. Dexter had requested that Tanith didn’t take her to the Sanctuary, or anyone Sanctuary-controlled facilities. Apart from that, he hadn’t intervened, and he seemed quietly happy with her friend.  
Her phone buzzed. She jumped in surprise, answering as she stood. Dexter spoke for a minute and the line went dead. Her lips pursued and the cell came to mind. It dimmed for a minute and her hands started to shake. Focus. Fingernails digging into her palm, she teleported only three metres to the left. Frustration boiled over and she landed outside a cell. Skulduggery Pleasant was just in front of her. She had nearly teleported inside his bones. She jumped back in shock. If he could have looked amused, he was.   
Dexter traded blows with a prisoner down the hall. They separated and thick beams of energy shot at each other. Dexter staggered. He somersaulted backwards under a stream and landed in a kneel. His hands both shot out and he gained more ground. China tapped sigils all over her body and watched as a girl prowled in front of her invisible energy shield. The girl had short hair and a snarl.   
Skulduggery grabbed his lanky opponent by his torn shirt and threw him to the floor. He turned to her.   
“I wonder what would have happened if you teleported where I was standing,” he commented. It only felt like he was joking a little bit.   
“I’m not great at that yet,” she admitted.   
“We can blame your mentor for that,” he said cheerfully. “Want me to teach you attack teleporting?”  
“Not… now, surely?”  
Skulduggery shrugged and kicked the man as he tried to stand. “Stand with your feet apart. The attack position Tanith does. Teleport to the side of the prisoner, teleport them where it’ll disorient them. Or swing your fist and teleport where it will connect.”  
She laughed. “Sure. Watch me, mentor.”  
And she was showing off. She swung her arm and the strike barely landed on the girl being held back by China. The girl looked amused, through a thick sheen of sweat. China was letting off waves of heat that rendered the girl nearly unable to move. Perfect. She teleported next to Skulduggery and swept her leg out and she would have taken out his legs but she was tripping the girl and back to Skulduggery. He cocked his head at her. She flicked hair out of her eyes. It was heating up in China’s energy field.   
The girl ran a hand through her pixie cut and bared her teeth at the teleporter from afar. She let a smirk out and watched the prisoner try to stand. She was at the prisoner’s side and pushed her over. She was feeling faint from the heat. She leaned against the wall behind Skulduggery as the girl was overcome by the energy field. She made it to one knee before she slumped sideways. China stopped tapping sigils, but she continued staring at the girl. The prisoner’s expression was settled, her cheek pressed against the floor. Sweat puddled around her head.  
“Not bad,” Skulduggery said, sounding bored. “Take us back when Dexter finishes.”  
She rolled her eyes. She teleported to help again.  
Lights danced in front of Dexter in the form of radiant energy. Colours turned to bright splotches until he couldn’t see his opponent. If he could focus for more than a moment at a time, maybe he could adjust his eyes to the harsh beams. The figure moved and shifted in front of him and he poured light through his hands into the figure. It reflected light his way and he danced in another direction. And the man was there and he punched him with red light escaping his hand.  
The energy thrower screamed with energy radiating from every pore. Dexter backed away. A figure shifted beside him. His brain buzzed. The energy began to slip away. Without a second thought, Dexter pressed his hand to her shoulder. She screamed and it radiated through him. Dexter gasped and his eyes began to clear. A girl with long, blonde hair fell to her knees beside him and clutched her shoulder. A thin figure darted forward to save her head from the floor. China Sorrows grabbed Dexter’s wrist and took Skulduggery’s arm with the other. His velvet voice was quiet and soothing. Dexter closed his eyes. There was a terrible crying nearby. They teleported. The crying deepened to shrieks.  
And Dexter realised what he had done.


End file.
